


Managing Expectations

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: F/M, Nazis, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia knows how to keep Todd at a safe distance. Todd knows soon enough, she'll come to him.</p><p>Brief references to canon events, mild spoilers for almost the whole show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Managing Expectations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/gifts).



> Thank you to my beta edonohana. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Lydia pulled the sandwich cutter out of the drawer. Who thought this stuff up? Who designed a plastic tchotchke that cut a perfectly good sandwich into two weird shapes that vaguely resembled dinosaurs? And why did her daughter insist on having her sandwich chopped into these weird shapes every day?

At least she wasn't still insisting on 'just trying' school lunch. That stuff was full of preservatives and processed foods. This way Lydia knew Kiira had whole-grain bread and low-sugar spreads in her cashew butter and redcurrant jelly sandwich (don't even get her started on the school ban on peanuts). She glanced at the clock as she smushed the cutter into the innocent sandwich. Ten minutes for Kiira to dawdle in the bathroom, then drop her off at school, then to the office. Three hours of pretending to do something she was too tired to focus on, then lunch with Todd. She picked the crust away from the dinosaur shapes and wondered if coffee would help. Disgusting stuff, but she was exhausted.

She'd been up half the night negotiating with the Czechs. Josef was being impossible. Sure, he was taking some risk, but what he faced was nothing compared what she might face with the DEA, and they both knew it. Her operation had manufacturing, cost of raw goods, and the not insignificant risk of transportation, not to mention a bunch of paranoid redneck yahoos whose biggest concern was a coming race war that was never actually going to happen. After putting up with all that, no way she was taking a penny less per ounce. She didn't care how terrible the Czech economy was.

"If things are half as terrible as you're claiming," she'd told him, "the market should be up." She'd also inferred she had plenty of other contacts she could sell through if Josef continued to protest.

She'd won, eventually. She usually did with Josef. The key was to be relentless. Josef had old-fashioned expectations for women, and when she got tough with him, he didn't know how to handle it. Nine times out of ten he backed down right away.

Lydia had been playing people's perceptions of her against them for a long time. She certainly wasn't about to get bested by a skinny kid like Josef. She put Kiira's mangled little dinosaurs into the sandwich keeper, and then into her lunch bag.

"Your shoes are pretty, Mommy." Kiira, finally out of the bathroom.

"Thank you, honey," she said automatically. "They're new." She didn't normally buy from Guiseppe Zanotti, but these fit perfectly and weren't too overstated, and she knew Todd would find them appealing.

She had to keep a careful line with Todd, just enough things he liked, but not enough that he'd get the wrong idea. A certain cut of suit, necklines that encouraged the imagination, leaning forward just a little when he spoke. Todd had expectations for women, too. Everyone did.

"I need new shoes too," Kiira said. She did, though she wasn't getting Zanottis.

"I know, we'll go shopping this weekend. Do you have everything ready for school?" Kiira nodded.

"Good," she said, and kissed her daughter on the top of her head. "Let's go."

 

Lydia looked even prettier than usual. She had a gray suit--dove gray, maybe?--and a purple blouse that was kind of a jewel color. Her shoes zipped up at the front, almost like they were boots, though they had high heels like usual. The zippers were interesting. Todd found himself staring at them, wondering what it would be like to tug them down, thinking about the zipper at the back of her skirt, too.

He put the bag down and sipped his coffee. He didn't like these meetings, where they pretended they didn't know each other. He liked it better when they could talk, when she leaned in just a little toward him, like she wanted to catch every word he said. Still, she was right, they couldn't be seen talking all the time. It was dangerous for her. Todd wanted to keep her safe.

"Everything's there, ma'am, just like we talked about," Todd said, when he felt her sit behind him. "You got any questions, you just call me."

"Of course," Lydia said, and her voice was sexy when it was low and quiet like that. Todd could picture her on her knees, those pretty shoes behind her. Maybe tied up. Todd knew some women liked that.

Uncle Jack said women like her just needed someone to show them what's what. Todd wasn't so sure about that. But the thought of Lydia looking up at him with her big eyes, maybe her hair down, that was a nice thought.

Yeah, he liked that idea a lot.

"Have a nice day," he said softly, as she walked out. He listened as her heels clicked-clicked-clicked along the tile floor, and thought again about pulling those zippers down, about the little gasp of surprise she would make. 

She didn't answer, but that was all right. That was how they did it.

 

Lydia always felt relief when she left the diner. One more task complete. One more day ahead of the feds and the cartels. Everything running smoothly, the meth clear and blue as the sky.

Todd was sharp-eyed. Not always the fastest, but the guy who would get the job done in the end, one way or another. Lydia appreciated that about him. And the whole 'younger' thing was flattering. But you had to be careful with someone like Todd. You couldn't have him think he was in charge. That wouldn't end well.

She had to keep him at the right distance, but he was increasingly capable. Walter had been right, he had potential. He could observe in a way that most people chose not to. The Nazi thing still made her nervous, and she'd have to keep him far clear of Kiira, but that shouldn't be too much trouble. She suspected Todd liked taking orders.

 _That_ was an interesting idea. Not that it was anything she'd actually do, but still. Todd on his knees, looking up at her. _What would you like, ma'am?_ One thing you could say about redneck neo-Nazis, they sure were polite.

Power's an aphrodisiac, right? No wonder Todd got turned on. Anyone would, when they had a suitcase full of money and enough methylamine to get the world high.

Still, you had to keep people interested. Especially when they'd killed for you.

She leaned down, very carefully, and adjusted the zipper of her shoe. If her skirt slipped up a little as she did it, well, so be it. It wasn't anything you couldn't see on the beach.

She didn't glance back to see if he was watching, but she would've bet money that he was.

She should call the nanny in the afternoon to check on Kiira. Maybe she'd get out early today and they could go shoe shopping, like Lydia had promised.

 

"How's your girlfriend?" Uncle Jack asked, when Todd drove back in.

"Here's the money," Todd said. For all Uncle Jack had said they didn't need it, he sure didn't mind when it came in.

"Good boy," Jack said with a grin, and clapped Todd on the shoulder. "We keep this up, we'll be able to put a pool in the back."

The other guys laughed. They all knew where the money would go. Uncle Jack was ready for the war, whether it was going to happen today or twenty years from now. They'd spent some of it on upgrading what they had, but he'd been putting most of the new money into gold, 'cause gold didn't know black, white, good or bad. Once you had enough food, water and arms, gold was the last thing of value. Uncle Jack said after the war they could buy whatever they wanted. _Even that pretty girl you like,_ he said.

But Todd wouldn't buy Lydia. He didn't want to, and he wouldn't have to. Maybe there'd be a war and maybe there wouldn't, but Todd knew the time would come when she needed him. She'd needed him twice already.

Todd wasn't as smart as Uncle Jack but he could still count up a ledger, and the accounts were all in his favor.

He was whistling as he went down to the lab to check on Jesse.


End file.
